CO-MATES 



HALUE ALEXANDER REYNOLDS 



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CO-MATES 



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BY HALLIE ALEXANDER REYNOLDS 



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NASHVILLE, TENN. 

PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 

1905 



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UBnARY of aONGR£SS 
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JUL 1 1905 

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Copyright 

190S 

By Hallie Alexander Reynolds 



FATHER 

Thy helpless child 
Into the wild 

1 send 
Defend thou it, 

I pray, 

Along the way 

TO MY MOTHER 



CONTENTS 

PART I 



I'AGE 

A Real Boyhood 9 

Ruth lo 

oopsie scoopsie ii 

My Good Little Daughter — The Lullaby of Ages 12 

My Little Sister 14 

PART II 

A Gentle Rain — If I Had Known 16 

The Song of the Creek 17 

A Tale 19 

In a Town of Renown 21 

White Raiment — White and Gold 22 

For the Seer— August -^z 

A Rain Barrel; or, A Chain of Many Colors 25 

My Tiny Son — The Heart Surcharged with Grief 27 

A Mighty Wind. 29 

My Soul's Garden 30 

A Duel ? 32 

A Diamond Ring 34 

Miss Importance.. 35 

Miss Pert — The Woman's Club 36 

A Man with Curiosity— A Lull 37 

Ole Blabbity Blab — Lazy Bones 38 

The Preacher's Mistake— The Scenic Railway 39 

Swine 40 

The Prelate's Engagement 41 

To My Mother 43 

Spring 49 

Retrospection 52 

Her Journey 58 

Mr. and Mrs. Recherche. 60 

D.D.'S 61 

A Message for Mrs. Tattler ^2 

Braggity Mens 63 

7 



"il/r early life was a^ child ^s rolic — halj trick, halt 
dreatn. I remember the colored bubbles blown from 
the pipe of fun. I retnetuber rolling leisurely upon 
the summer air, and now I hear the child^s laughs as 
they burst and xvent back into the silent nothings. 
Life was a rope dance, a sxving, a butterfly chase, a 
mother^s kiss, a tumble in the sea sand, a run for 
baubles., a pail, a spade, a hoop, a horse of vjood, a 
Tvhip — one sxveet mockery after another of things that 
used to please, a dream just on the xvitig.''^ 

-DR. JOSEPH PARKER. 



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PART 1 



A REAL BOYHOOD. 

(Motif: Dr. Parker's Words., 

My early life was a rolic, 

Half trick and half sweet dream. 
The bubbles thrown from the pipe of fun were real^ 

They did not seem 
The gossamer nothings that burst at my touch, 

That lure me with opal gleam. 

I remember rolling leisurely 

Upon the summer air; 
And now, I hear the child laughs, 

T often wing me there. 

Life was then a rope dance, 

A swing, a butterfly chase ; 
Some say, now, 'tis a game of chance, 

And weary of the race. 

But I think of the tumble in the sand, 

The kiss from my mother's lip, 
A run for baubles, a pail, a spade, 

A horse of wood, a whip. 
9 



CO- MATES 



And I trundle once more my tiny hoop, 
And I live again and say: 

"Life may be a tiresome game, 
But I laugh along the way." 



RUTH. 

Ruth, Ruth, thou beautiful being! 
The youth of early springtime 
The world is seeing 
Through thy clear, clear eyes. 

As quiet pools 

Of woodland waters cool, 

They lie upon the bosom of thy face, 

So full of glee, so full of grace. 

They are given 

As a benediction from Heaven. 

Thou art to me 
An early apple bud 
Upon a fragrant tree. 

My soul yearns 

To melt into thine, 

O gay child ! 

Caress this tired spirit of mine, 

And lead me to the Fountain of Truth, 

Sweet Ruth, 

Of everlasting youth. 

TO 



CO- MATES 



From cool, clovered meadows 

With restful shadows 

Thou tripp'st 

Down mountain sides, 

The happy child 

Of a sunbeam, 

Who coverest thy head with a kiss, 

With a smile of his bliss. 



00 PS IE SCO OPS IE. 

OoPSiE ScoopsiE is my only little sheep; 
He often 'tends like he is fast asleep ; 
And when I am to take a nap, 
He then would like Bo-Peep — 
This little Oopsie Scoopsie that I love. 

When Oopsie Scoopsie was so very small 

That he could hardly laugh, 

And couldn't talk at all. 

He lay upon my arm and wiggled his short toes 

Beneath the embroidered petticoat, and other fine, long 

clothes. 
That I made for little Oopsie Scoopsie that I love. 

When I am sitting near my favorite desk to write, 
My dear little Scoopsie holds his clinched fist so tight, 
What do I see but clover blossoms white 
That he has gathered, has little Oopsie Scoopsie ? 

II 



CO- MATES 



MY GOOD LITTLE DAUGHTER. 

My good little daughter sits in the sun 

Shelling peas ; 
She picks them out one by one — 

Now those, now these. 
She knows not that I am standing near, 
The little dear ! 

The sunshine pours down through her hair, 

Laughs o'er her face; 
A sunbeam plays o'er her fingers fair, 

In their work of grace. 



God keep her close to 
His strong, warm heart 

When I part from her — 
My little daughter ! 



THE LULLABY OF AGES. 

The night, like a thin-blown bowl of glass, 

Hangs o'er the world. 

It yields sweet incense to Him 

Who swung it there; 

It distills upon the flowers perfumes rare. 

The air invites me; 

I lift gently the flower's bell, 

A drowsy, nodding tale it tells 

12 



CO- MATES 



As babies do in lisps 

Upon their mothers' arm, 

From softest, sweetest lips. 

I as gently let it down; 

Its snow-white crown 

Falls back upon the green leaf's breast 

And rests. 

I look above 

And love. 

I gaze through the night's fair lens 

To Him 

Who sits upon his throne of pearl; 

To saints in multitudes 

There in state, 

King's great, 

Sit side by side 

With Paul, 

At peace ; 

While children small 

Sing in glorious ecstasy 

Of the broadened liberty 

Of heaven. 

I look upon the flower's snow, 

To me there comes a song of long ago ; 

No dropping tears play soft accompaniment to it 

For peace and joy upon its strains are sent. 

The stars still declare 

That God hath set them there ; 

They sing the lullaby of ages 

To children now.. 

As then. 

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CO- MATES 



For Christ, a babe, 

Upon his motlier's breast 

Found holy rest. 

From their swinging song 

How must the mother then have felt 

To see through bars 

Across the kine 

The stars 

Join hands ^ 

And sing as merry babes 

Of Christ, her babe, 

The Saviour of all lands? 

This song comes to me 

Across the foaming sea, 

From the land of the holy dawn, 

Where Hbertv was born. 



MY LITTLE SISTER. 

Safe sheltered in from sin . 

Was little sister. 

Her merry voice was hushed ; 

Ah, how we missed her! 

With drooping soul and sobs back pushed, 

I stooped and kissed her, 

Dear little sister! 

When she was small 
And I was tall, 
She bothered me; 

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CO- MATES 



But now her death over all 

Has smothered me. 

1 must arise, with calmest face, 

And greet the living ; 

There may be joy, 

There may be grace 

From my own giving. 

Dear little sister ! 

O'er her laughing eyes, 

Our changing skies. 

We often have soft kissed her. 

Our blurred eyes 

By pain's surprise 

Are filled with earthly mist. 

The mists are curtains which He lifts 

By promises. 

Ah, little sister, little sister, 
An angel heart thou bearest. 
Sweet angel songs thou darest ; 
And God for thee now carest. 
Sweet little sister. 



15 



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PART II 



/I GENTLE RAIN. 

Steadily the rain is falling 

Upon the hawthorn tree : 
Quietly his wings are folded, 

The wings of the young wood bee. 
The butterfly shields his tissue wings 
'Neath the crimson buds of early spring, 

While the cooling drops on the strong, gray boughs, 
At our touch, shake in showers 

Upon our grateful brows. 



IF I HAD KNOWN. 

If I had known my brother groaned for bread, 
I would have said 
The word. 

I would have done the golden deed 
My Lord advised for those in need. 
i6 



CO- MATES 



His cry unto the Lord hath gone, 

The opportunity hath flown 

Into for evermore. 

I sit alone 

And weep and moan: 

"If I had known, if I had known !" 



THE SONG OF THE CREEK. 



One day 

I walked across grounds 

Thrown up in mounds 

By the plow, 

Through tangles of briers. 

By opening bud fires, 

Heeding well 

The spell 

Of the hearty violet. 

Over rustic rail fences 

I climbed 

To find 

A surprise 

Of springtime beauty 

Before my eyes — 

A huge bowlder, 

The gray and green shoulder 

Of a mystic covered hill 

No hand had tilled. 

It seems 

2 17 



CO-MATES 



'Twould have been a sin 
To have disturbed the youth of the trees. 
The truth 
Of the clear creek 
Smiled God to us 
As an infant's cheek, 
An infant's eyes. 
I cried in wonder 
At the bird's son^ 
Echoing from the resounding hills. 
From a projecting rock 
I watched Spring stretch her golden strings 
From tree to tree 
Across the cool, shadowed creek, 
Making ready for her yearly festival. 
The complete hours were sweet. 
For at God's feet 
Hay 

On that springtime day. 
The creek 

In cooling accents then did speak. 
In tones 

Of music o'er her stones : 
"My mysteries are deep, 
But deeper are the ocean's. 
The mosses near me creep, 
I see the tree's devotion. 
Though I may see no spar. 
No wing of white sea bird. 
My face reflects the star. 
My stirring life is heard 
i8 



CO-MATES 



By boy let loose from school. 

Who then obeys my rule. 

I feed the hungry poor, 

I cleanse their humble door. 

I crystal streams outpour 

To meet the river's tide. 

I full abide 

In wonders. 

I reflect the thunder's frown 

Down, down, 

To where the sleepy fish are found.'' 



A TALE. 

There are gates of pearl 

And beautiful green ^ 

Through which we have often in wonder seen 

Gay belt' knights 

And lords bedight 

In velvet fleur-de-lis, 

And ladies fair, 

With silken hair. 

As fair as the fairest day ; 

While earls beside 

Most gleefully ride, 

And smile in shadows gay. 

One fine knight. 

In pearl bedight, 

19 



CO- MATES 



On steel-gray ckarger rode. 
The housings grand, 
From an unknown land. 
Were glorious to behold ; 
The reins, 
From Spain, 
Were of a sunny hue; 
Of silver bits 
And bolden wits^ 
There were not a few; 
The jeweled plume, 
That knew no groom. 
In fantasy waved wild. 
The children there 
Threw sapphire stones 
And glanced their golden curls. 
The topaz eyes 
Of many a one 
Gleamed goldenly. 
As does the sun; 
Indeed, 'twas quite 
A lovely sight 
To see in wafting air 
So fair 

A set of gems so rare. 
There was another, 
A knightly brother, 
Who rode gracefully thereby 
Upon a steed of golden bay. 
With flanks as bright as a sunny noon 
Of a bright, bright summer day. 
20 



CO- MATES 



The satin sheen of well-rounded neck 

Caused many a lord to nod and beck. 

This gay young knight 

With Saxon hair 

Drew well his rein, 

A golden chain, 

With loving care 

By little playful maid. 

She rode a white 

With eyes of night, 

With blue, blue housings on. 

This tale is well. 



IN A TOWN OF RENOWN. 

In a town 
Of renown^ 
Near the billowy sea, 

Where the blood of patriots flowed so free. 
Where the fields of life were mowed — ah me ! 
There dwelt in a snowy abode a soul — 
A soul of purest gold. 
'Twas a girl so sweet 
The angels repeat 

Her name from the heavenly scroll. 
''Tis forme!" I cried; 
"She shall be my bride. 
She shall be my pride, 
21 



CO-MATES 



In this town by the billowy sea !' 

The lily died. 

Her name so sweet 

I'll not repeat, 

But the angels will sing it to me. 



WHITE RAIMENT., 

If to weepings He call thee, 

Why go. 
Thy garments shall be 

As the snow. 
If thou bearest the seed 
Of the true, gentle deed. 

And dost sow 
In every bare land. 
Withhold, withhold not thy hand ! 



WHITE AND GOLD. 

Lay a jonquil o'er my heart 

When I am dead; 
Place white roses in my hand. 

Around my head. 

The jonquil a star shall gleam 

Upon my breast ; 
The roses shall be white angel wings 

Whereupon to rest. 

22 



CO-MATES 



FOR THE SEER. 

O HAPPY he 

Who nature sees 

In all her varying moods. 

Tis there 

The beauty of the air, 

The beauty of the woods, 

The homeliest circumstance becomes 

Imbued with light from heaven. 

To him who opens well his eyes 

And prays for this light to be given. 



AUGUST. 

Speakin' uv June 
An' uv the heart's ''bein' in tune," 
An' the upliftin' uv yer sperits, 
I'll engage August merets 
About ez much praiz 
Ez them daiz. 

I've rid down August's waze, 
I've saw the treeze raize 
The'r clappin' ban's 
To the bloo uv the August skiez, 
An' shout the'r joy to the land; 
I'll warrant the'r's ez much bloo 
In August skiez ez in June. No, ter you ? 
23 . 



CO-MATES 



I'd jes' as soon set 
Under the treeze in August an' rest 
Ez in June — an' ruther, 
Fer the groun' ain't soppin' wet 
Half the time. 
The Hght is in its prime, 
A golden yeller bath, 
Better ner cream. 
The jay bird's scream 
Is melody to me — 
In nature's classic song 
Jes' a wrong 
Not plade rite. 
God might hev sent 
A humming bird. It would have went 
Too soon, an' never sung. 
I've never hung 

Many hopes on them buzzin' darts ; 
They're jes' like serciety flirts. 
En the strate corn is ez purty 
Ez purty girls; 

God made it ez same ez pearls. 
To fix up this worl'. 
It's rite ter look well 
Ef yer can ; 
Evin a man 
Mout try 
Ter look spry. 
The rusty, yeller 
Melons, meller 
Among the tater vines — 
24 



CO-MATES 



This site is mine 

Frum the tansy bed. 

The gorgus butterfliez kiss the flowers red ; 

In lonely corners uv sedgy fields 

The cricket wields 

His tuning fork 

Fer autumn's carnivel ; 

The golden-rod an' heather 

Begin to smile tergether. 

In August's rich an' rosy pam 

We find fer September sweetest bam. 



A RAIN BARREL; OR, A CHAIN OF MANY 
COLORS. 

1 STAND, I look at the sky in the barrel of water. 
The apple tree near by holds bewitchingly a strong, 
beautiful branch thereover. I think of other lands, 
of the deep blue sea, home here, home beyond. 

The clear blue water of my sea seems clearer. The 
more I look, deeper and bluer grows the water. I 
say : 'The sheer depth the which is space begun." The 
dark reflection of the wooden gutter brings another 
line to me : 'The rampart of God's house that she was 
standing on." The breeze smilingly kisses the sweet, 
fresh water; the apple bough sways for very joy; the 
leaves shine in the water. 

I think again : "The tree of life, the fruit, the crystal 
25 



CO- MATES 



stream." A sweet voice comes to me from childhood's 
years. Other sweet voices, strong and joyous, say: 
"Come away." 

I start. I look at the green tree and its soft gray 
shade. I say: "It's a good old world, it's a dear old 
world, it's a superb old world, with royalty always 
around us. 

I see a little brown bird, with its striped back, en- 
joying the cool, damp grass; a butterfly with its scar- 
let sash and a bee robbing the apple blossom of its 
sweet. I stand and taste. I say: "This fruit is not 
forbidden." I listen. 

Then a child comes with his fleet of blacking boxes 
bearing the seal and stamp of Repuhlique Francaise 
and medal of Exposition Nationale. He claps his 
hands with glee, and I partake of his merriment. We 
sail our fleet of boxes — war ships with holes for cannon, 
flatboats, skififs, and barges. The lotus of the apple 
tree bountifully showers its petals over the gay Egyp- 
tians of our imagination, who sing and float carelessly 
over the sea. I think again: "The sea of glass." 

The bee still sips his nectar, 
The birds chirp on ; 
Another tree beckons me, 
I say : "Not yet." 

The boy sounds the depth of our sea with his cotton 
string and dipper handle. I ask: "How deep?" He 
measures. "As far as the string is wet. Just three 
feet ;" and I say : " 'By the sounding sea.' / cannot 
fathom the rain barrel." 

26 ' 



CO- MATES 



The child holds up another toy : "Here's my anchor !" 
I under the apple tree say, "Where's my anchor ?" and 
I drowse. 



MY TINY SON. 

My tiny son isn't beautiful 

To others well, I know ; 
But to me he is. 
For his young, young soul 

Is as white as the white, white snow. 

The touch of his wee, wee hand 
Is as soft as the snowflakes that fall, 

And the coo from his tender lips 
Is as sweet as the dove's low call. 



THE HEART SURCHARGED WITH GRIEF. 

The heart surcharged with grief 

Must find relief 

Somehow, somewhere ; 

It seeks the primal cheer of paradise. 

Grief dies ♦ 

Or lives 

Before the eyes 

Of God, 

According to the way one's feet 

The ways of life have trod. 

27 



CO- MATES 



The eyes that have wept sore 

Must know more 

Of the sunshine; 

Less of inward gloom, 

More of the Divine 

That speaks in nature's spacious room — 

The world. 

The ear that has heard 

The dull, cold thud of grief 

Must list for the birds' song, 

Must find its chiefest charm 

Upon the wooded hill 

In violet-studded grove so still, 

Or upon the glassy stream 

Where sounds from earth 

Bid him dream 

Of heaven and God. 

For if here we find such soothing songs, 

How shall it be ere long ? 

The mouth that has spoken words of pain, 

Before it sings the songs of heaven, 

Must refrain; 

Must gain 

A calm 

Christ-spoken, 

By tempests 

Unbroken, 

By shocks. 

28 



CO- MATES 



Our lives rush onward over rocks, 
Perhaps the tide is turned; 
The old surroundings burned 
By lightning. Fear not; 
'Twill reach the seas 
In spite of these. 



A MIGHTY WIND. 

I 

Am the child 

Of the sky 

And the earth. 

An awful birth 

Was given 

Me by a storm cloud riven 

In rage. 

I am the son of ages, 

The herald of destruction. 

Of disruption, 

The brother of thunder, that roars 

While I go before 

With lightning, 

Fright'ning 

The people of the world. 

Some of whom are hurled 

Into a state 

Either great 

Or terrible. 

29 



CO- MATES 



I am the destroyer 

Of the works of God — my employer. 

At his command 

I uproot trees. 

I seize the habitations of man 

And crush them with my hand. 

I scour and sweep the earth 

While people weep. 

While I lay desolate, 

More often I make 

The earth in beauty to appear, 

And leave the raindrop's clinging tear 

Upon each spear of grass, 

Upon each flower as I pass. 



MY SOUL'S GARDEN, 

I HAVE a garden wherein the Master walks ; 
The virtues, sweet and lowly, 
Spring anew as he talks 
Of purest things and holy. 

I say and hold his garments tight : 
"This one is dead ; 
By thy might 
It yet can raise its head. 
O Elder Brother still so true, 
Make it spring anew !" 
30 



CO-MATES 



My spirit knows no rest ; 

I smite my breast 

And cry : 

"The lie 

Cut down by sin. 

How can I win 

An everlasting chaplet from such flowers?" 

He smiles and reassures me, 

Saying: "Heavenly powers 

Have moved worlds; 

Canst trust?" 

I weep and say: 

"I must, 

For thou art just 

To forgive, 

xA.nd canst make them live." 

"Be it even so; 
They grow 
Henceforth 
According to thy faith. 

cultivate ! O cultivate !" 

1 weep and beat my breast, 

A disturbed song bird flies from its nest ; 
He gently draws me to the bush's edge ; 
I look: the thin-shelled, dainty eggs 
Are sweetest blue. 



"Why weepest thou? 

Behold the beautiful beginning 

Of direst hopes. 

31 



CO-MATES 



This is but saddest sinning, 

Even now 

The bird is flying back. 

Disturb them not, 

But gently tread around the spot 

And give a gentler pruning. 

Thou shalt see blossoms o'er it all. 

And in the young bird's tender tuning 

Thou shalt often hear my call. 

plow deep 
And never weep, 

For I will never leave thee ; 

1 never sleep." 

Now I pray for everlasting trust 

And work with energy, 

So when I reach the last sweet bush 

I shall invited be 

Into a hush of rich expectancy. 

Into a place of love and purity. 



A DUEL? 

Your wife dresses well; 

Yes, her old clothes. 

Is that so? The last suit, I hear, 

Was exceedingly dear. 

Humph, 

Just forty-five, 

32 



CO- MATES 



Land sakes alive! 

Do you have to dress wives that way? 

More expensively than that 

Sometimes. Ha ! ha ! A simple hat 

Oft'en costs me half the sum. 

I tell you my wife's economical, though. 

Sure. As her old beau says, quite artistical. 

But the invitations. 

Well, Pet's in a pet 

Yet. 

How's that? 

My! it didn't take long for my kin 

To begin 

To make trouble. 

You remember our reception? 

yes. 

They wondered how on earth we could afford such. 

They've done her dirt. 

Now, what have you done ? 

Let them poke fun 

At her, and encouraged them. 

Shut up ! You have, and you know it. 

Shut up ! or I'll double my fist up and hit 

You between the eyes. 

Old man, I'll surprise 

You in many ways. 

You'd better surprise that worldly-wise sweetheart of 

yours 
With a little law and gospel. 
Have you no honor, Charles? 

1 tell you I can't help these snarls 
• 3 33 



JO-MATES 



In my hank. 

Cant help them? You're a villain. 

I challenge you to a duel 

Over this jewel. 

What's the matter with you ? 

You must be out of your head. 

She's my wife. I'll attend to this. 

You're not any more fit to kiss her 

Than — Yoii are? 

Shut up. The duel, sir. 

Duel nothing^; 

You're not rig-ht 

In the upper story, 

Or you'd fight. 



A DIAMOND RING. 

Do let us get married — do, 
I'll separate the two if I can. 
Poor man ! Dear Jim ! 

I wonder how on earth she ever caught him ! 
Such extravagance! 
To think that she, 
Reared in poverty. 

Would have put him to the test that way, 
34 



CO- MATES. 



Poor man ! Unlucky day 

That he married her ! 

They say not a happy moment has he had. 

Too bad ! Too bad ! ! 

The first Sunday she went to church 

After they were married 

They sat in front of an old darling of his. 

She wore no gloves, 

Of course. And bless your soul 

She took the whole of her braid 

In her hand. 

Good land! 



MISS IMPORTANCE, 

She always thought she was so smart, 

An' held her head so high, 

I'm just as glad as I can be 

That they frowed dirt on her an' made her cry. 

Look at old Miss Importance ! 
The ribbon's off her hair. 
Her face is ves as dirty; 
I don't care one bit — I ves don't care, 
35 



CO- MATES 



MISS PERT. 

Little sister's des as pert, 

She des twisks her head and flirts 

Her linen apron 'round. 

Papa frowns 

And says she's the baddest girl in town. 



THE WOMAN'S CLUB. 

Did you enjoy the club meeting? 

Very much indeed. The greeting 

Was cordial. The topic? 

I'll speak of that later. 

The refreshments were great! 

Indeed! Is that so? Why not say swell? 

Humph ! Well, 

What's the matter with great? 

It smacks of slang. 

They were excellent, then. How's that? 

Exactly the word. 

Was Mrs. Dresden heard 

This afternoon? 

No, she wasn't there ; 

In France, I suppose. 

Humph 1 

36 



CO-MATES 



Some of them pulled every hair out of the woman's 

head. 
She isn't dead, 
However. 
O, no, 
She'll never be dead, never! 



A MAN WITH CURIOSITY. 

There was a man who had curiosity. 

How can it be? 

What ! A man with curiosity ? 

There were some men 
Who had curiosity ; 
O hozv and where and when 
Did men have curiosity? 



A LULL. 

I HEAR the drip-drop of the rain, 

I see the stars above, 
And through my blinding tears and pain 

I see that God is love. 
37 



CO-MATES 



OLE BLABBITY BLAB. 

Ole Blabbity Blab 
Is just a dab 

. Of smut on creation's cheek. 
His head's a sieve 
With nothing but a rim 
And a g^reat big leak. 
He's a speckled puppy 
An' a mean ole sneak, 
Ole Blabbity Blab. 



LAZY BONES, 

Lazy Bones 

Just moans 

An' groans 

When her mammy calls her of mornings. 

She hears the words, ''I give you fair v^arning, 

my lady," 
And the twitter of birds. 
But she don't care. 
She rams her head in the pillow 
An' tangles her hair, 
An' just politely stays there. 

38 



CO- MATES 



THE PREACHER'S MISTAKE. 

"He went to be rigged up and new clothes," 

Said the preacher. 

And he was educated; 

He had been a Greek teacher. 

I pondered. 

'To be new clothes." "He went to be new clothes." 

Why, that's fine ! 

To be new clothes to those who are wandering unclad. 

To be peace to the turbulent, 

Joy to the sad! 



THE SCENIC RAILWAY. 

That old scenic railway 
Just simply shook me out 
Like a piece of ribbon^ 
An' knocked me about. 
It tied me in a knot. 
Then untied me and tied me again 
In a double bowknot. 
I tell you what, 
I nearly died. 

(O, you imagine you did.) 
No, sir; I nearly died, I tell you. 
I laughed and I cried, 
39 



CO- MATES 



An' I prayed as hard as puttin' out fire ; 

I jabbed my feet against the dashboard 

An' lowered 

My head ! 

When we stopped 

I was nearly dead. Sure nuff. 

You know that's all stuff. 



SWINE. 
One day 

I was in the nursery 
Enjoying nursery ways, 
When, in a moment of inadvertence, 
I hitched my son's wagon to a tin dog. 
I thought how often are we carted around 
By some hound 
Or hog. 
Some girls 
Cast their pearls 
Before swine. 
Men do the same thing 
In this lame old world. 
We are here 
To fight 
For the right; 
Not to be whirled 
As motes 

In a flood of light. 
40 



CO- MATES 



THE PRELATE'S ENGAGEMENT. 

The hour for the prelate's engagement with the 
king had not quite arrived. The well-trained servant 
at the palace door received the dignitary very quietly, 
and as quietly withdrew to his alcove in the east end of 
the reception hall. 

The prelate, though accustomed to splendor, found 
much in his magnificent surroundings to interest him. 
His mild yet keen blue eyes dwelt long upon a fine 
picture by Lady Alma Tadema. He was enjoying th^ 
beautiful handling of the drapery when the soft hand of 
the attentive servant touched him to remind him that 
the exact time had arrived. In an instant, it seemed, 
the king appeared, simply attired, after the fashion of 
one of our Presidents. The prelate bowed low. 

The king met him as he would have met his own 
brother. 'T have kept you waiting. I beg pardon for 
so doing," said he, rather briskly. 

"I am sure," replied the Right Reverend Roberts 
in his matchless tones, "that I am greatly honored in 
that I secured any time of yours during this exceeding- 
ly busy hunting season." 

His Majesty laughed heartily. "O, but I had a 
superb bag of game when I came home." 

'Ts that so ?" questioned the minister sotto voce. 

''Why, I suppose I must have walked at least twenty 
miles. The appetite I had was perfectly marvelous." 

"By the way," kindly, but rather abruptly, said the 
king, "ma^ I inquire just how I may serve you?" 

41 



CO- MATES 



The minister grew quite pale and constrained. Ten 
years previous one of the king's relatives, a very devout 
woman, had presented to the dignitary of her beloved 
Church a most beautiful and handsome country seat. 
The magnificent park joined one of the king's choice 
hunting preserves. For many months past the prelate's 
mind had been sorely agitated by a thought which 
came to him one enchanting July night. He was sit- 
ting by a window, drinking deep the holy influences of 
the blissful night. The very God was at his side. 
His mighty presence awed him into a strange fear. 
"Perfect love casteth out fear," softly said his angel; 
and lo! one with eyes of flame, that struck terror to 
his already affrighted soul, said in words that burned 
upon the altar of his Holy of Holies: ''How hardly 
shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of 
God!" Then a feeling of tenderness not unlike that 
which he felt for his mother swept every obstacle away. 

Perfect love had indeed c^st out fear. He could 
now approach the king with his message. He saw a 
vision of a crucified Saviour. How easy then did the 
task seem ! now for a moment, how difficult ! The 
vision reappeared this time in the king's splendid draw- 
ing-room. He spoke gently and calmly: ''Your Maj- 
esty remembers that ten years ago on Christmas Eve 
I received a note calling me to the Countess G's. 
When I found her on the first day of the follow- 
ing year in her cozy parlor, she begged me in her 
own gracious manner to accept the beautiful coun- 
try seat which is now my home. I objected. She 
spoke of a vision of the angels that had illumined her 

42 



CO-MATES 



chamber a few nights before, and of a clear, bell-like 
note that seemed to come from God's throne, saying: 
'Relinquish, reUnquish. That thou hast is mine. Thou 
art my steward; shall I find thee faithful?' She was 
so deeply impressed that she should bestow this prop- 
erty upon me that I accepted. The voice has spoken to 
me. Too long have I been enjoying the luxurious 
apartments, the charming garden, and comforting 
acres. Too long have I been unmindful of the cries 
of my starving brethren. I too must relinquish. God 
is our Father. He has let me enjoy this, speaking to 
me only in his still, small voice. I hear him now 
in wrath. The idea is this : to found a Rest Home for 
the sick of our Church, a place of calm retreat for 
those who are gasping for the odor of the rose, the 
scent of the pine." 

''Sir," said the king, in tones of true majesty, "we 
are brethren. Proceed with your work, and allow me 
the privilege, I pray, of being a coworker with you in 
your task. The blessing of the King of kings be 
with you!" 



TO MY MOTHER. 

I have a beautiful memory, which, like a crystal vase, 
I look through and see: 

A COOL, white bed, a damask rose, 
A saintly face, in sweet repose. 
I drop beside the bed 
43 



CO-MATES 



A golden head 
Once more. 
I hold the rose's stem 
And pray to Him 
To keep me there, 
A golden hair, 
For evermore. 

You divine 

A shrine 

Is there. 

It is, and ever shall be, 

Until eternity. 

A pilgrimage 

I make 

Until, where heathens rage 

And vain imaginings 

And sad disputings 

Are never known, 

I find a home. 

I clasp my hands, 

So baby white, 

Around the rose's stem. 

I linger there 

And fill the air 

With thoughtless childhood chimes. 

A slender hand clasps mine 

(This hand is now in fatherland) ; 

The wine 

Of joy it lifts. 

While rifts 

44 



CO- MATES 



Of fringed gold I see 

In skies of gray intensity. 

Whole years of pure delight I spend — 

Ah, would those years could never end ! 

The damask rose lies still; 

The amethyst eyes 

Are downward glanced in sweet surprise 

On me. No ill 

Dare touch my hair, 

For God is there. 

She tells me with a kiss 

He promised this. 

Such lessons there I learn 

That any one may spurn 

Me — 'twill never harm. 

The eternal charm 

Is 'round me yet. 

For there I've met 

The great and kingly God 

Who withdraws sometimes, maybe, 

So that we may feel and see 

The beauty of his love. 

He withdrew from me one day, 

Leaving me treading a weary way 

Of Winding, bitt'rest tears. 

The sunny, saddened years 

Have borne me on. 

Sometimes with song. 

For thoughts of life to be 

Have bathed me in the sea — the sea 

Of surging health. 

45 



CO- MATES 



Broad thoughts of heavenly wealth 

Have filled my mind — 

The wealth of presence, heavenly kind, 

Of joyous song. 

I wonder on 

And trust, 

For it must 

Be true ; 

For God is true and just! 

The saintly face, in sweet repose. 

Was shattered as the damask rose. 

He placed upon her darling breast 

The roses of eternal rest — 

The crimson roses of his life. 

She was a lovely sacrifice, 

A true and tender wife. 

The lintels of my heart that day 

Were marked with purest blood. 

The thorns of Jesus Christ were hers. 

The way 

Was trod — she understood. 

And I? 

Till yet I try. 

But cannot see 

Because of sad mortality. 



I feel His blessed garments near my soul, 
I feel His hallowed presence in my heart ; 
At His touch my soul is quick made whole. 
From dearest love I part. 

46 



CO- MATES 



Richest joys are those that are broken, 

Sweetest words are those unspoken. 

We often stand in grandest state amid a bed of 

flowers ; 
The minutes stand with breath abate 
To welcome dearest hours. 
The flowers lave our feet in dew, 
And wipe them with their petals. 
The sky o'ershakes it wreathed blue, 
The clouds the breezes settle. 
The lemon lilies stand a mass of sunny-lighted 

gold. 
The shadows play within their depths 
Fold over fold. 

shadows, it will ever be 
That we must consider thee ! 

To-day my shrine is there 
Beside that vacant bed. 
And, though no golden hair, 

1 lean my weary head 
And sing to thee 

With echoes from eternity. 

Ah, could I make thee understand 

It is a near and goodly land ! 

Song. 

Jesus, best Lover of my soul, 

Thy help alone I need; 
Thy help alone when spirit, sore, 

Torn-winged, cannot speed, 
47 



CO-MATES 



I need thee evermore, my Lord, 

I gain thee every day ; 
I win thee through thy every word, 

I meet thee when I pray. 



And though the day be fair or foul, 

Thy presence. Lord, I feel. 
Though wrecking storms may round me howl, 

Into coverts safe I steal. 



The favor of my friends is vain, 
Thy love, O Lord, I keep ; 

Thy love is with me still, my God, 
When I awake or sleep. 



To the good it must be beautiful to die — 

To feel His arms, on dewy roses still to lie; 

To feel the dew of life by breezes swept. 

To know at last dull pain is overleapt ; 

To hear the harp of life give one low sigh 

As swept upon by a hand of love 

And then put by. 

The dew's dissolved, 

The problem's solved! 

We're face to face with Thee, 

We're in eternity ! 

And what, O Father, is eternity ? 

I pause at Father; 

'Tis immensity of love — ''tis home. 

48 



CO- MATES 



SPRING. 

There is a voice of singing in the land, 
The accompaniment is played by a divine hand. 
I sit and listen. Quick, I stand 
And wonder ! On every side is springing life. 
Love's chiding strife 
Is heard 

From tongue to tongue of bird. 
The hyacinths tall in lavender 
To the smiling breezes stir. 
The tulip is a tall young fellow, 
Bending o'er the primrose yellow. 
In graceful jacket green, 
From vantage point trees may be seen 
Piled and climbing high 
To reach the fair blue sky. 
No cry 
Escapes me; 
From tree to tree 
I gaze. 
No haze 
Of sorrow, 
No pain for morrow. 
Shrouds my moment's cahr. ; 
But on my heated spirit balm 
Is spread. 
I can't decribe 
The grassy bed. 
I lie and look, 
4 49 



CO- MATES 



Each tree a book, 
The sky a fantasy, 
The world a mystery. 

phantasy ! O mystery ! 
Let me look beyond the true ! 

1 cannot move, 
I only love ! 

And loving thus, I live 

Near Him who all things gives. 

Close by is seen 

The river's neck embraced in green. 

The trees now interpose 

In curved rows, 

And clasp her dimpled neck so cool, so fair; 

The moss, its tendriled hair, 

Softly lies in place, 

Fringing her restful face. 

For a moment war groans 

Are gone. Naught but the helpless moan 

Of the darling calf is heard. 

The evening song of a bird, 

And the cow bell's mellow tones. 

They are calling me back to childhood's days 

Unconscious, willing, I go their ways. 

And my heart breaks 

While it makes 

A wild leap through the years. 

With tears 

The years 

Hold me. 

Though some in glee, 

50 



CO- MATES 



And some with cruel thorns. 

I say : "Not again would I live thee !" 

I turn to the eternal morn's strong call, 

I'm free! 

I look across the river to the green, 

The sweetest that was ever seen. 

Again it is my worship time. 

The angels sing a sweet, low chime 

From heaven town. 

I drop me down 

And pray. 

I say: 

''For one sweet gift I pray, 

O Lord, to-day. 

Thou hast said : 'Ask and I will give it thee.' 

If ruinous ill. 

Forbid it me." 

A voice says to me in an undertone : 

"Hast thou heard the broken widow's moan, 

Or orphan's cry, my child? 

Art thou undefiled? 

Art thou worthy of such a gift as this. 

Art thou ready for such an unknown bliss?" 

It is so hard to pray 

For this sweet gift, dear Lord, to-day ; 

Lest, finding it, I soon shall see 

It is too good and fair for me. 



CO- MATES 



RETROSPECTION. 

There has often been a Magdalene 

Who might have been a Ruth to glean ; 

Others there are who glean all day, 

But at even have no gold-bound hay. 

The flowers cut with new-mown grain 

Call us back to youth again. 

The corn is dropped ; the flowers instead 

Are fondled to a hot, tired head. 

The flowers were cut by a good, strong hand ; 

bind them in for the dear home land ! 
Wither them not with a single tear, 

They have stopped growing in the soil down 

here. 
Carry in haste to the Father's feet, 
Give them to Him, for they are sweet. 

A view 

1 give to you. 
I live 

Again in arms 
Soft-clothed and fair. 
The beating of her heart so warm 
Disturbs my little ear. 
I question why 'tis so. 
She tells me, then I grow 
From this to deeper thoughts. 
But what is deeper than the human heart ? 
The issues of eternal life do start 
52 



CO- MATES 



And bound from it ; 
The lamp of life is lit 
Upon its rub}' portal. 

It tells us we are mortal. 

It beats the strong tattoo 

To duty's brave, true march, 

And, beating, gives us new 

And vigorous, fair hope. 

The view 

I give to you 

Is this : a chair— a rocking chair— 

A child's fair hair 

Bathing a gentle, dovelike breast. 

The child is tired. It finds its rest 

Right there 

Beneath the shadow of her hair. 

The mother eyes, 

So mother-wise, 
Soft-petaled, are dropping too. 
As butterfly wings o'er flowers of blue 
She croons so low 
O'er brow of snow 
That bending you catch the words 
As downy nesting birds: 
"In Shadow Town 
Raindrops come down 
As smooth as milky pearls, 
To soothe sweet little girls 
In Shadow Town. 
In Shadow Town 
The breezes blow 
53 



CO-MATES 



O'er fields of sparkling snow, 

The rabbits hop and go, 

The redbirds flash and glow 

O'er fields of snow, 

In Shadow Town. 

There are such wondrous, wondrous things 

Jack Frostie sings 

While strong he clings 

To trees, 

And kills the bees 

With stings. 

In Shadow Town." 

Soft she treads 

To the little bed ; 

The head falls back upon little pillow 

As soft as any pussy willow. 

She dreams of rabbits, gray young bunnies. 

And fairy tables filled with honey 

And cakes delectable. 

Small wonder that she lingers long 

In smiling sleep o'er 

Mother's song. 

Is it wrong to anticipate ? 
To be at ease — to let the minutes wait 
Upon you, to run 
Into the future's realm 
And borrow sunshine from its years, 
And pluck its ripening fruit? 
Must interest be paid 
54 



CO- MATES 



With tears 

For this ? 

Let every day be good ; 

Thou mayst then borrow from thy bank thy 

past, 
And flood thy future with the glorious light 

and liberty of God. 
To rest is well ; 
To feel the spell 
Of God awhile 

Many a mile is gained thereby. 
I am well content to eat the fruit of now, 
The fruit that ripened on the bough 
Of long ago. 
Is it wrong to be elate 
O'er visions? 
To paint the rainbow 
Of sweetest missions 
On the air of the broad future ? 
'Tis but a fragile fabric — the future. 
Ah, no! 

God spreads it well 
For thee, for me. He tells 
Us of joys unspeakable. 
No woe 

Shall harm thy dwelling ; 
But if thou art indeed willing, 
The good of the land 
Shalt thou have; 
The oil of gladness shall lave 
Thy brow. 

55 
L« ^f if 



CO- MATES 



I borrow from my past 

A heap of glowing gems. 

They make the life of God to start 

Within my heart, within my veins, 

And bear 

Me to the chair 

Again, 

The chair that held my mother. 

Beside me was my brother, 

Who is older than I. Years three 

Had crowned his head with golden curls 

When I, among the least of girls, 

Disturbed his realm of bliss. 

No kiss 

Of brotherly love 

He gave to me ; 

But held his selfish counsel 

And buzzed and bumbled 

As a bee 

A flower had caught. 

'Twas naught 

To him. 

Time cleared the turbid stream. 

And later on fair dreams 

We had together. 

In rainy weather 

We read a book 

Near the chair 

While mother hands would smooth our hair. 

This view is clear. 

Though many years 

56 



CO-MATES 



Have drawn the shadows round. 

With strength. 

I draw the folds aside 

And gaze across the rooms — the years — 

That divide 

The past from now. 

I bow 

My head and peer; 

The Hght shines full upon it. 

I raise my head ; 

'Tis a canvas red 

With life. 

The firelight throws 

Its glowing rose 

Upon the family there. 

The center w^as the chair 

And its fair occupant. 

The father, with the silvered hair of life's 

strong prime, 
Sat with his eyes half closed. 
While I, from time to time, 
Would tread upon his toes 
To awaken him. 
At last, held tight. 
In half-pretended fright 
I screamed. 

My canvases are lighted wxU 
With joy. I often tell 
Them o'er. 

And draw the curtain more 
Wide apart, 

57 



CO- MATES 



Knowing well 

There are those who will look with me 

And see them in the light of fair eternity. 



HER JOURNEY. 

She lay so still, so fair 

That day 

An angel came her gentle way ; 

They clothed her in her softest gray, 

And smoothed her hair. 

He took her by her dear, tired hand 

And said : ''A land 

Is just ahead; 

I will lead thee." 

They placed within her cold, cold hand 

A scarlet flower. 

With power 

It leads the broken hearts — 

A flame of love. 

O Death, the merry blood ran wild 
At thy approach, 
Leaving her delicate veins 
As deserted banquet halls. 
The drops gave frightened chase; 
They gave thee their happy place. 
The goblets held only dregs 
58 



CO-MATES 



Of her precious wine ; 

And thou didst drink them all, 

O winged terror ! 

O mother mine, 

Why didst thou leave me- 

Why leavedst thou me? 

The terror flies. 

Behold, an angel in disguise 

Stood, half concealed 

In the valley of deep shadow\ 

As children hide in deepest meadow 

Grasses and jump into the light 

Wild with delight, 

I see 

Why thou didst leave me; 

I see ! 

Each day I live through faith in Him, 
Each day fresh courage take ; 

And if at all my faith grow dim, 
An effort still I make. 

If I do sad things and wrong, 
And wander from the way ; 

Unto the Lord I sing a song, 
Unto the Lord I pray. 

And when my spirit on the song 
Attends the court of heaven, 
The bands of dire environment 
■ From my soul and heart are riven 
59 



CO- MATES 



I tread along my strengthened way 
And sing my own true song; 

In lands of sad discouragement 
I linger never long. 

Sometimes I brush the valley grass, 

Sometimes I sing in dew, 
Sometimes the Saviour leads me past 

To mountains rough and new. 

The mountains give fresh life to me. 

The valleys give me rest ; 
I find in mountain and in vale 

The truest things and best. 



MR. AND MRS. RECHERCHE. 

Mr. and Mrs. Recherche 
Had come to town to stay 
During the winter. 
They were really 
Mr. and Mrs. Brown. 

Now Mr. Recherche had cornered some wheat, 
And how sweet 
His daughter did look ! 
They gave an evening, of course ; 
They invited a friend from out of town — 
60 



CO- MATES 



A beautiful young girl, but so poor ! 

Some could hardly endure her ! 

Count Gimcracksky, from over the sea, from St. Pe- 
tersburg, was there. 

He espied this lovely bird of the dell. 

He paid no more attention to the rich belle 

Than was absolutely necessary. 

He said : "Ah, a pearl from the deep, green sea of 
repose ! 

I propose." And so he did. 

My, my ! how Mr. and Mrs. Brown 

Did frown ! 

But you know thev had onlv recentlv come to town. 



d.d:s. 

When we have D.D. 

In close proximity to our names, 

Why, nothing we may say 

Can possibly be tame. 

Our decisions are final, 

Our sermons are beautiful and unique in the extreme, 

Our poems are dreams of loveliness ; 

And, O my ! how we do dress ! 

Why, I guess we do — 

Just look at the patent leather shoes. 

And the cravats. 

And the silk jiats. 

6i 



CO- MATES 



Cholly Chappie is way back on the boulevard. 

Now, please do not think hard 

Of me for telHng you this. 

I felt that I should ; 

It's really for your own good. 



A MESSAGE FOR MRS. TATTLER. 

Hello, Mrs. Tattler ! Hello ! 

Hello, Mrs. Tattler ! 

I can't get the old goose. 

Her tongue is loose enough when you don't want it to 

wag! 
Hello ! run over to your neighbor's and desiccate the 

news. 
Cousin Jim's wife has a pair of five-dollar shoes, 
And the handsomest tailored gown 
In the town. 

She's just whipping it around 
In the mud. 

Say, you mortgaged your house and lot to pay 
For that gown. 
You didntf 

Well, I am surprised. I supposed you did. 
You're taking such a lively interest in it. 
He'll have to mortgage his? 
Whew ! 

That will be fun for you! 
Good-by ! 

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CO- MATES 



BRAGGITY MENS. 

Es ve old braggity mens 

Don't do nothin' but sit around and grin 

When women begins to chatter. 

They think it's funny to hear the clatter of cups 

And their discussi'ns on money. 

But they don't Hke to spend money murch. 

Mamma ses so, 

And she knows. 

Why, oncte papa wouldn't give mamma money for a 

dimin tiara, 
And she fumped him on ve head — so — 
O— 
Ma'am ? 
I must go. 



63 



JUL I ttoa 



